Remember
by Kaelir of Lorien
Summary: My interpretation of QuiGon's thoughts after his apprentice, Xanatos', betrayal. Then, what he must face as he finds himself approaching the same situation again. Please review!


Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its names, title, etc. I am respectfully borrowing them.

I have read only bits and snippets of Jedi Apprentice, so I might be a little off on things.

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The Jedi Temple, many agreed, was legend in the making. Even as far as the Outer Rim, one might chance across and old storyteller describing a long-past journey to Coruscant for an audience of wide-eyed young ones, dwelling on the majestic pinnacles, the strong, firm construction, the unparalleled sense of awe inspired. It was a sacred place, a sanctuary where few walked unchanged, if they entered at all. 

Those who lived there, however, maintained slightly different views of the Temple. It was more than a haven from the galaxy outside — it was home, where thousands of beings were bound together as one family in the will of the Force. Most, it was true, did not reside in the Temple. They were scattered near and far across the known galaxy, possessing a duty to maintain balance and order. But nearly all of them returned to Coruscant once in a while to take a respite in the peaceful, meditative atmosphere and to reconnect with the Force.

Qui-Gon Jinn could not find peace there.

It was home, yet he was unable to feel its solitude.

Everything was dark; not the warm, velvety comfort of a star-strewn night, but an icy, piercing unknown filling his consciousness. He could feel it taking hold of him, drawing him, and he made no effort to escape, wishing only to sink into its depths to numb the pain. He was restless, too; everywhere he went he could feel eyes watching him, and if he happened to glance up, they quickly looked away, as though afraid to meet his gaze.

It was not a question of why. He knew why.

Memories resided in every room and corridor, haunting him. The boy sparring with a fellow apprentice in one of the training areas, his lightsaber swirling elegantly through the air around that of his opponent. The boy eagerly trying to locate his home planet in the starmap room after one of their missions. The dark-haired young man who had passed the trials of Knighthood with flying colors, making Qui-Gon prouder than he had ever been…

Qui-Gon knew it was his own fault. It was he who had brought Xanatos to the Temple, taking him from a barely-willing father on Telos. He who had trained him, spent more time with him than anyone else.

And yet he had been blind to what should have been apparent, perhaps unwilling to admit that the talented young Jedi could have dire faults. He had firmly ignored Xanatos' growing hunger for power and unnecessary aggressiveness during practice. Had he hoped the boy would grow out of it as he became older? It seemed a pitifully inadequate excuse now. For he had been wrong, fatally wrong.

How in the galaxy could he not have seen it? No matter that the Council (except, perhaps for, Yoda) had been caught unawares as well; he, as Xanatos' master, should have at least realized that something was out of place. But no, Qui-Gon had turned a blind eye to any signs there might have been, convinced that his apprentice would become an outstanding Jedi Knight. The burden of responsibility was placed on him and him alone.

Three days had gone by since the betrayal on Telos, but Qui-Gon had barely noticed their passing. He isolated himself from the rest of the Temple, keeping distance between himself and other Jedi. If he had to talk, he spoke with only the briefest of words, then lapsed into silence again. Most gave up after one or two attempts at drawing him into conversation, and far from being upset about this, Qui-Gon encouraged the silence. Words of comfort and sympathy had no meaning for him anymore. He did not want their pity.

Only two Jedi would he consent to speak more than a few words to — Yoda, because he knew the little master would not accept otherwise, and Tahl. With the latter, she refrained from mentioning the source of his troubles, and for this Qui-Gon was grateful. He did not want to talk about it, though he knew that word of what had happened had spread through most of the Temple within hours of his return. Other Jedi were wary of him now, skirting him as though afraid he might vent his feelings on them.

To make matters worse, the Jedi Council was not pleased with him, either. Qui-Gon had refused to give them an official report, and it was only through Tahl's gentle encouragement and Yoda's adamant insistence that he was persuaded to explain what had occurred. He realized, too, that they wanted him to take another apprentice. On this matter, however, he remained unwavering. He would not train another apprentice and risk betrayal again. Not after Xanatos.

Qui-Gon was lost. It was as though his apprentice's betrayal had instigated a sudden pause in the usual goings-on of his life, and until he could overcome his grief and guilt, he could not see what lay ahead.

But why worry about the future? What did it matter anymore — it could not change events of the past. He felt trapped, trying to forget the memories burned into his mind, yet unwilling to look towards what might come later.

A small part of him knew this could not continue. Facing his fears was the only was to resolve the feelings inside of him. But he was not ready not yet. It was much too soon, the anguish and he who had caused it were still too near. One day, perhaps, he would make up for this mistake.

For now, he could only remember.


End file.
